


The Way Our Horizons Meet

by esaerus (stormilys)



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2016-09-12
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3771949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormilys/pseuds/esaerus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes he thinks that they are a pair of parallel lines; two lines on a plane that never meet. Always a distance apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happenstance

**Author's Note:**

> I've yet to watch the show, actually. But I was spoiled big-time by a fan fic challenge by a friend. This is dedicated to her. Maybe after I finish this, I might watch the show. Better late than never, right? Also the summary makes no sense so ignore that. It can mean whatever you want it to mean.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> —n. a chance happening or event; a circumstance especially that is due to chance  
> synonymous with fate, destiny, fortune, circumstance.
> 
> in other words, how one could describe the martian princess and the earth-born boy's first meeting.

* * *

He never really believed in the notion. Back when he was still at Earth, when girls his age would swoon at the idea of it, or when he could hear someone discussing it near and rather loudly. In fact, it seemed so superficial—the idea of love at first sight. Yes, it's really more than just a farce than a real thing, to Slaine. Of course, he'd never really had one, but that's _beside_ the point.

Contrary to popular opinion, he hadn't fallen in-love with her at first sight. The thoughts that littered his winded mind, before she stepped in with her savior hands, were that of _I'mgoingtodieI'mgoingtodie **I'mgoingtodie**_ as he desperately tried to release the fluid that now choked him instead of let him breathe (ironic, he could have laughed) and not how pretty a girl he barely knew was standing in front of him. When he saw her, his vision was darkening and spotting; he was going to lose consciousness, and there was still liquid in his lungs. He was going to die. He couldn't breathe. He was breathing in water. He was going to die. 

A girl. No more older than him and blonde hair. Blonde? They have a lot of blondes back in Trondheim. And, emeralds. For a second, he had thought that someone with authority lost his sane mind. Because, who in the world would make eyes out of emeralds? To describe it as plain green is an anomaly. It does no justice to the sparkle of her stare, the confusion and the wonder and—his mouth decided to spew out more liquid.

Then she gasps, and he feels her mouth over his, and the surge of fluid ascends up his trachea out of his mouth and into hers. She repeats this for several moments, and he lets her. Who is this girl? Why is she here? Questions that are not answered by just a mere _She saved me she saved me that's why she's here_. Vaguely, he realizes there is also water beneath her feet. Only until her mouth overlaps his again to provide more air to his battered lungs did he regain a little of bearings, and, if he squinted just a little bit, it could have been a kiss. But not, at the same time. Then she lets up and smiles, and there—gratitude, and it warmed his heart. No, he didn't fall in-love with her at first sight nor did he fall in-love with her dazzling smile. _She saved me,_ and that's all he knew.

A week later, when he was well enough to accept longer visits, he learns that she was the princess of Mars—Vers.

She'd been ten years old that time. He had been eleven, just a few days away from his twelfth.

* * *

 _"Don't you find it strange?" She asked, one day, while he was walking around the room they've put them in to get used to movement after staying in bed for so long. She said her room was two hallways away. Not that he cared, though, as he breathed deeply through his nose, intent on ignoring her but_ not _ignoring her to make it seem like he was listening to her._

_"Hmm?"_

_"You and your father have been here for a fortnight already." Her dangling legs swing from her place on his made bed. "Yet we haven't been properly introduced yet, have we?"_

_"I know who you are." He replied, as flat as he can. She was only conducting proper etiquette, but he damned if he has time for etiquette now of all times. He_ needed _to get his legs moving again._

 _She shakes her head with an amused giggle._ What's so funny? _He wanted to snap. "Of course you do."_

_"You're the princess of Mars. Apparently the only heir to it."_

_"Vers." She corrects. Slaine huffs, and carries on walking around. "That's right." She hops off the bed and effortlessly bounds straight to him, and he is envious because he took almost_ five _minutes to get to where he was currently standing. "But do you know my name?"_

_Yes. He ignores her question and she giggles again._

_"I don't know yours either." She continues. "Isn't it customary that we introduce ourselves to each other? Strangers do that, yes? On Earth and here on Vers, it's all the same!" No, it isn't._

_"Why would you want to know?" He asks, more out of humoring her than actual curiosity._

_She shrugs. "I_   _just want to."_

 _A typical answer for the typical princess. Slaine almost didn't want to. But he ends up answering, anyway._ _"My name is Slaine." He pauses when she takes one of his hands in hers for a handshake, something that takes him by surprise. "Slaine Troyard."_

_"I am Asseylum Vers Allusia, Princess of the Vers Empire." She smiles dazzlingly. "And I come in peace."_

_For the life of him, he broke out into laughter that she later joined him on._

* * *

Despite this development, his feelings, for one, were a slow burn.

Sure, the Princess of Vers saved him herself, and for that, he is indebted to her. The gratefulness he feels is unbound. Sure, the Princess of Vers is rather friendly and too overly-familiar—maybe a little even overbearing. Sure, the Princess of Vers is rather pretty and to compare her back to his female Earth inhabitants is like comparing two equally as brilliant gemstones or in other words, ridiculous. But that was it. That was all the princess was to him. A princess. A girl. A human being. He did not fall in-love at her at first sight.

If he were to be brutally honest, though, the princess was bit of a bore—and  _pesky_.

Her questions always threw him off, and what's worse was that they were practically _limitless_. And one more thing he always found himself annoyed by was the constant breaching of his personal space. With the princess, she does not know _space_. Some part of her would always be on him or touching him; her really long hair that got on his face sometimes, her shoulder that always bumped his, her knee brushing his when she sits too close by his side, or her hand on his arm as she asks things. Sometimes he tried to escape her inevitable presence by escaping to some part of the castle that she didn't frequent. If anything else, the thought he has of the princess was that she was a nuisance.

He wasn't interested in hearing her tales about her lovely red planet (when all he could hear from the Versian people was discrimination and scorn, it was hard not to get pissed off) when he had all of these things drilled into his head before he'd been set off with his father to study the power that was the heart and soul of the Vers Empire: Aldnoah. He didn't want anything to do with her without forgetting he owed his life to her, so the best thing he could do to repay his debt even the tiniest bit was to bear with her constancy. But he didn't hate her.

What he hated though, was basically anyone in her red planet that spoke ill of his home. Because to him, it's difficult not to hate something that hates you and makes it a point to rub it in your face in a daily manner. The one thing that truly infuriated him about the nobility was their tendency to act nice to his father, then when his back was turned, they'd murmur and whisper to one another. People who knew his father thought of him, Slaine, as a nuisance.

He hated anyone who spoke as if Earth was nothing but dirt beneath their foot.

He hated anyone who refer to Earth as if Earth was a mere object; a plaything.

He hated anyone who used the word _Terran_ the most.

The princess...well...she weren't any of these. So he didn't hate her. She was still classified as an annoyance, though. That was one thing that's not to change. That was it. Maybe another side of himself considered something her close to a friend, even. Besides her and his father, no one bothered with him and that was one thing he was glad of. Better with the annoying princess than be in the presence of a prejudiced Martian. _That was it._

* * *

He'd celebrated his 12th birthday trapped all day in the princess' chambers when she was sick, all because she had new questions and she couldn't get out of bed out of strict orders not to. Not that he celebrated his birthdays lavishly, but he would have preferred it if he was by his father's side while he studied Aldnoah. But despite himself, watching the princess try to fire every question one at a time without breaking into a coughing fit or with heavy sniffle was quite funny—if he didn't feel the bite of guilt first for thinking it so. It never occurred to him before that even someone as tenacious as the princess was bound to get downed by a sickness somehow.

As usual, every question is new and different. It almost feels dull, even. Without the usual chipper of her mood to keep him off his own comfort zone. It was a little unnerving.

"Slaine," _Here we go._ Mentally, he prepared himself. "You're from the blue planet, Earth, aren't you?"

Now. Now he was surprised. In these three months he's been here, this is the first time she acknowledges his heritage. It breaks his mask and his composure he's carefully pieced in front of her. For once, he didn't know how to answer her.

He settles with something that's _something_. "Yes, I'm from Earth. So is my father."

She looks at him meaningfully with a pleading pout that only means one thing: "Can you tell me more about it?" She pauses. "Earth?"

He wondered why that at that time of her weakness, she chose to ask something that should be far from her thoughts. In fact, she should have been focusing on getting herself better and not keeping a boy she barely knew in her room all because the questions she has cannot be contained. She was an unstoppable force, and whether you like it or not, you would have to deal with it and stand your ground because if you don't, the purpose of your foundation is nothing, and this is something he learns the hard way.

But that question; her interest to his home, made him crack.

And it caught him off-guard.

"D-don't you have advisers and teachers that tell you stuff like that?" He ends up blurting.

"The things I learn are either pointless and more or less for basic knowledge. I know that life thrived the most there. I know that long before the Vers Empire was created, all of us, Earth people and Vers people, descended from the same ancestor." Her smile was unusually bitter. He notes this with surprise. The princess was usually well-reserved with her emotions. "And the part I dislike the most, they tell me these with a tone of disregard and...and contempt."  _I hear it everyday._ "It makes me _not_ want to learn things about such a beautiful planet when the people that surrounds me know only hostility and speak only of hostility about a planet I am very interested in."

Beautiful. She called Earth  _beautiful_.

"I hate them, quite frankly." She sniffles after. Her bluntness befuddled him. Either the sickness was making her say these things, or...

"Princess," He shushes. People passing outside her door might hear, and it wouldn't be very good. "You can't hate your own people."

"Why not?" She sighs, turning away from him to gaze at her window—at the spectacular view of his Earth. The planet she called beautiful. She sniffles before she answers. "They don't seem to have any trouble hating Earth people. And like Earth people, Versians are just as human as Earth people."

_As human as Earth people._

If only a lot more Versians had her way of thinking, then maybe he wouldn't feel this much abhorrence for her planet. It'd hurt her if she knew just how he held it in contempt.

She doesn't say that word. _Terran_.

Maybe she dislikes it as much as he hated it.

And so, he swallows the shards of his broken composure and inhales with courage as she kept her head turned from him, watching the Earth with only what he could describe as wonder. He sets his book down and clenches his pants in his small hands, subtly clearing his throat.

"Then, princess, what about the Earth would you like to know?"

It's the first time his heart flutters in nervous beats.

* * *

By the time he's noticed it, it'd been far too late. And for the first time in his life, it was not a bad thing.

No longer were her questions senseless. Every time he answered her question—about Earth—she'd have another question brimming on her lips—about Earth—that followed his answer. An example, _"Trees provide clean oxygen by taking in carbon dioxide in the air."_ A tilt of her head. _"What is carbon dioxide?"_ A hum from him about how to expand his answer. _"Carbon dioxide is...well, gas. It's an important gas to all plant life on Earth, and it is colorless and odorless. It exists everywhere on Earth. Even here on Vers."_ She would gasp, and lean forward excitedly. " _On Vers!? Then, does that mean we are in the presence of this carbon dioxide, right now, right this moment?"_ And he would smile, and try not to think of her contagious excitement. _"Yes, princess."_

She had successfully breached his world, with every question and every sincere expression of her desire to experience Earth the way he had before he came to Mars. 

Perhaps in the process he could have said that he had fallen in-love with her, but  _not quite_  fallen in-love with her. Though too young to really make out of anything about it, he left the idea alone for some other time because he knew that right now was not the right time to entertain these...silly notions. He didn't need it. The princess didn't need it. Right now, a friend was what the princess of Vers needed. He thought about it often, when he thought of all the times she stuck by him and refused to leave his side unless she had to, that maybe she was just lonely. She was an only child, she said, and coupled with the fact that she was forbidden from leaving the palace she had none to call friends of her own.

So, for reasons he deemed reasonable enough, he left the idea alone. He left it alone enough to think he forgot about it.

And they were _friends_. Come to think of it, he never really had (lasting) ones either. He wasn't particularly friendly either back on Earth, and time constraints, also because of the fact his family is never in a place for far too long, prevented him from keeping them. She was the friendly one. She'd probably have a lot of friends if she came to Earth.

But he most especially adored the way she spoke about Earth.

No one looked at Earth like the way she did.

Like a planet. Like a home.

Ah. His _home_. His Earth. Sometimes he thought of the life he left behind. Sometimes it made him homesick, but he doesn't tell her this because she doesn't ask and maybe won't ask. If she does, though, he will make sure of it that he was sufficiently prepared.

Despite his knowledge, the fact that his knowledge is limited is unavoidable. There are times he couldn't get the words right or the answer was missing like an answer on a blank sheet of paper without the questions. When the princess is disappointed, she tries to hide this as best as possible. It's also the same reason why it's easy to read her disappointment, simply because she tries too hard to show that she _wasn't_ disappointed. Her disappointment was one of the things that he didn't like these days, so he studied and learned all the things he could learn by his father's side.

Her transition from being an annoyance to…to whatever this was…was something unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. If anything, Slaine cherished it. So sometimes she invaded his personal space unknowingly, but that was just her. He just thought it was a little improper with the way she leaned too closely at him. It caught him off-guard often; unprepared. It's one of the things that endeared her to him. When she hogged his time all to herself, he found that it was easy to get used to when all he had to do was not to think of it as his time being wasted, which is what he thought often in earlier times when he couldn't learn to appreciate her presence. It was smart of him, though, to enjoy her presence before her royal duties finally took effect.

Her royal duties, that being said, took much of her time and energy. Not to mention her attention. While she carried out these duties, he made sure he was out of her way so there were less distractions to her responsibility as Vers' princess. No one would approve of him distracting her anyway, especially this one Count—the one they call Cruhteo. He later learned that this Count Cruhteo was related to a close associate of his father's, Count Saazbaum. He never felt comfortable with the presence of the blond count. He was severely intimidating, and he carried this _cane_ around as if it were only to _strike people_ and not for decorative purposes. This Count was the only count Slaine made sure to stay away from upon detection. A frosty glare was all it takes, really. He was given one when he managed to bump into the count one time.

_"Watch where you're going, Terran brat."_

One thing he noted about the Count was his overuse of _that_ word. He grits his teeth every time he heard it from the Count. The worse thing about this is that majority of the people he and his father came across in their time here were of singular thought.  _Terran_ here, _Terran_ there, _Terran_ that. God, for someone who hated Earth and its inhabitants, they sure used that word in abundance.

"Slaine? Slaine, wait!"

Too immersed in his thoughts to notice his surroundings, he failed to see he was going to crash straight into a wall until deft hands pulled him by the arm abruptly, saving him from a busted forehead and a headache. Slaine blinked in surprise and turned around, and almost immediately placed his arms up to defend himself when the princess knocked on his forehead. She looked annoyed. Probably at him, no doubt.

"Princess," Slaine greeted, giving her an apologetic, sheepish smile. "I'm sorry. Did I trouble you?"

"No," She huffed, crossing her arms. "But you were close to it. Pay attention to your surroundings, Slaine! Or you might get seriously hurt the next time." She reprimanded seriously. He smiled at her concern.

"I will. Thank you, Princess." Almost immediately as he says this, her frown dissolves to an eager grin.

"Well then!" She links her arm with his, oblivious to his reddening countenance. "Now that's taken care of, I'd like your time for myself now, if you don't mind."

Slaine sighed. "Are your duties for today even done, Your Highness?"

"Yes, of course! I made sure of it so I would be able to spend the rest of this day with you." She, suspiciously, replied in an airy manner.

After doing this to him for nearly three years you would have thought that he would have gotten used to her doing this to him. He doesn't. Because every bit of time he has and spends with her is precious. He would say that she does, too. In fact, she told him that this has always been her favorite part of her days. Even when his mind was screaming rest and his body was exhausted from all the training, even when she had done nothing but her duties all day long that she should have been resting, even when they have been reprimanded time and time again from such _careless behavior_. He cherished these moments; it seemed to be the only thing connecting them now, as they grow busier and busier every day.

"How was your day today, Slaine?" she begins, as they trek the halls for that special room where they could view the Earth above their heads. There is an amount of respectable distance between them now; enough that can be deemed proper for that of a princess and a cadet. Slaine made sure of it.

"Quite alright." He answers with a smile. "I was one of the few that had passing scores regarding how to pilot a sky carrier, my superiors said. It had been an honor to receive their praises."

"Congratulations!" She applauded. "Piloting a sky carrier must have come easy for you, I hope?"

"To some extent, Princess. But what of your day? I hope it'd been much more eventful compared to mine."

"Oh, yes!" She clapped her palms together. "I wouldn't call it eventful, but it's what I can call different from my days, Slaine. Grandfather said they have finally acknowledged the positive effects of the peace treaty I've been suggesting for years." She smiled solemnly. "War with Earth has been going on for years. It's about time the war ceases. Neither party would gain nothing from all this bloodshed."

Slaine paused to smile. The princess stops as well, confused. Braving the sea of his own rules and self-obligation, he crosses the distance and holds her hands in both of his. She looked up at him in uncertainty.

"I've told you before, Princess. Nothing indeed. Not unless you make a difference."

"Well, yes, that's true, but how can I make a difference when I am being held down? Pushed aside as if my opinions don't matter? It is as if my position as the princess is merely for naught." Frustration marred her uncertain expression. "Corruption among the Orbital Knights and the desire for more power has led to this. Father always made sure such things didn't happen when he and mother had been ruling." Her frustration then contorts to one of grief that has long been sealed away. "They were exceptional rulers, mother and father. Life of the Vers commoners improved, and there were little to no poverty among the population. Some would say those times were the peak of the Vers Empire, I included. Then we lost mother." Her hands balled into fists in his hold. "And father gave up and went along the tide of it."

"It hasn't always been this way." He acquiesces. She nods in agreement. "But whatever may happen, always know that I will always be here by your side, princess, whatever you may do and whatever your decision may be. You have my word."

She smiles gratefully, and almost as if it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, somehow a hand managed to link with his the more the seconds ticked by, each dainty finger carefully seamed with each of his gloved ones.  _A perfect fit,_ he thinks distractedly, unable to tear his stare away. The heat on his cheeks are surely showing by the paleness of his skin. This was another aspect of her that he can't get used to. Even though she doesn't say so verbally, her body language always gave her away.

"Thank you, Slaine." She murmurs, and he wasn't sure if the red he sees is the soft hue on her cheeks, or the approaching form of Count Cruhteo.

... _Count Cruhteo_!? Slaine quickly took back his hands by his side, standing up straight, gaining back that respectable distance as the princess stared, confused, and if not a little hurt. Slaine winced. _Oh no._

"Your Highness," He saw her stiffen with surprise as the Count spoke. Slaine backed up further, aiming to blend in the background out of respect. He was glad she understood. "What are you doing here? You are supposed to be in the boardroom for the final assessment for your potential handmaiden twelve minutes ago!"

Slaine gave the princess' back a pointed stare. He knows she knows that he was looking at her; her fingers started to tug on her hair. _Bad habits arise when one is distressed._

"Count, why do I need a handmaiden in the first place?" She asks, completely exasperated. "I never had any problems with helping myself. In fact, this would be a much waste of time. What is the point of a handmaiden when I already have Slaine?" She reasons. Count Cruhteo sucks in a small breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Slaine could barely cover the blush that took over his face.

"Princess Asseylum, we've discussed this before. You are nearing your thirteenth year, and at that time, you would need all the feminine guidance you can get."

She frowned. "Feminine guidance? And just what are these things that Slaine couldn't possibly help me with?"

The Count hummed as if in thought, sending Slaine a pointed glance. Slaine wished she didn't include him in her reasons. It seemed to make things worse. "Well, Your Highness, would you really want to ask Slaine to help you before and after you bathe? Or help you dress and tighten your corset? My, my."

A fiery blush erupted from both of their faces.

"A little bold of you to do so if such was a situation, wouldn't it, my ladyship?"

"Count!" She apprehended, blush as severe as Slaine's. "Let's not talk about that any further."

Cruhteo was only shaking his head in what could be amusement as he tapped the end of his cane against the floor. "That is enough dallying. Your presence is being waited on, my lady. A Princess must not keep her audience waiting."

She only sighed. "Fine."

The older man then bowed politely. "I shall be leaving, then. However." They both tensed. "You, _Terran_ —" Slaine cringed a bit. "—are to make sure Her Highness gets to the council room in twenty minutes. No more and no less. Understood?"

Slaine bowed. "Yes, my lord."

There is no further reply. Slaine didn't really need it. When he finally heard the Count's leaving footsteps, he released a heavy sigh and straightened back up to meet the princess' chagrined gaze.

"My lady," he began, sternly and she turned stiff with a nervous smile. "You know full well you cannot just ignore your duties...what if they find out that you skip these matters for me? I'm just a cadet, Your Highness."

"But I barely get to spend time with you now!" She confesses with a firm frown, wringing her fingers together as Slaine softened, his cheeks turning a light red once again. "Time with you is always short and fleeting now. When we actually do spend time, it's often so brief and...unsatisfactory. I'm not satisfied at all. And I miss you, Slaine."

Slaine breathed in deeply to steady his stuttering breathing. He felt giddy from those last three words alone. "You see me everyday, Princess."

She peeked up at him through her bangs. "Not in the way I want it to be." And then averts her indignant stare elsewhere.

He wonders if she knows just how her words affect him. It shoots arrows of warmth and pleasantness down to his stomach, and it spreads throughout his body up to the tips of his fingers. But as fast as it envelops him, Slaine shoots it down.

"I must escort you to your meeting now, my lady." He bows slightly, offering a gloved hand. "We have seventeen minutes left."

She hums. "You actually counted the minutes, Slaine?" She asks, with a hint of laughter and a slight intone of frustration, for yet again, he managed to divert the course of their conversation.

"Yes, Princess. It is a must."

"You're odd." She takes his hand and they turn back from the direction they were supposed to take. She has plastered on a knowing smile.

He takes in the warmth of the hand in his, allowing himself even just for a few seconds to think that he quite liked her hand in his. "And we have sixteen minutes left now, Your Highness."


	2. Hauteur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> —n. haughtiness of manner; disdainful pride  
> synonymous with arrogance, superciliousness, importance, pretension
> 
> the earth-born boy comes to terms that versians and earthlings don't have that much difference after all.

* * *

_Mars_ , —" _Vers_!" She would say to correct him if she were there—, _in all its imperfections, has its beauty, too_ , this Slaine could not help but think, as he looked up. For one, it provided the best seat for star-viewing. Sometimes, he wondered how Mars would look if it had the same environment of Earth. Flourishing, resplendent. So full of life that it wouldn't even be the red planet it was known to be anymore but Earth's brother planet with its greens and blues. Maybe it wouldn't even be known as Mars anymore. _What name would it be suited with?_  

In the mythologies he had limited knowledge on, Mars was the Roman god of war who personified the military as a means to guarantee peace, and was considered a father of the Roman people. Meanwhile, Ares, his Greek god of war counterpart, is feared because he is too ruthless. Her planet bore the name Mars and she is the living personification of wanting her power to be used as a means to secure peace—Earth and hers, yet the Vers Empire—the Orbital Knights—were practically Ares-incarnate. Feared, admired from afar. Always in discord with their lack of interest with working together. That, or maybe he was just reading too into it.

 _Still, though..._ Blue skies instead of storms. The ground covered with grass and not barren rocks. Mountains, hills, valleys, plains. Lakes, ponds, rivers and oceans. Tree leaves and flowers that sprout and grow and turn into a plethora of colors as the seasons pass. The whiteness as snow fell. The torrent as rain fell. The hopeful radiance of the sun as it peeked behind storm clouds. The way fauna would retreat into hibernation as winter came. The kiss of life from one life to another as spring came forth. The sweltering energy that summer brought and warmed the seas. The calm resignation that brought hope as autumn settled. The things that he missed and may never experience again.

And besides that…his mother. There were lots of things that he missed, but he missed his mother the most. It's been so long ever since he last saw her. Was it...was it four years ago? Before his father whisked him away to various countries in search of a suitable place for his studies, his mother used to come with them until she decided to finally settle in Halden. She said she had found her calling there; wanted to be a doctor but not the kind of doctor that his father was and how they knew him to be. 

_"A doctor for the needy, Slaine. I want to be one. Earth could use another pair of hands for bettering the world."_

_"B—but will you be fine?" 10-year old Slaine asked, with tears that ran down his cheeks and a firm grip on the material of his mother's jacket. She always told him he was well on his way to getting taller than her. And he never paid attention until right then that he noticed. His mother wasn't a short woman, but has he always used to reach her shoulder? Has he always noticed how the ends of her hair brushed her shoulders? No, he realized with startling alarm. He didn't. "When—when we come back, you'll be here safe and sound, won't you? If we returned, you'll be here, won't you?"_

_A soft hand came upon his fair locks. He looked up at the woman, with her dark blonde hair and fair blue eyes; he looked at the woman he called his mother. Her smile was wide and not soft at all and she never could meet his eyes every time she tells him things—important things, and her cheek always twitched strangely when she tries to stop her eyes from averting away. She didn't possess a motherly smile. It always ended up looking like something of a grimace when she tried to hard and Slaine honestly didn't care because she had hands that held him when he was born weak and vulnerable, fed him when he called and cared for him as he grew and they brushed away tears when he cried. They held his hands, treated his scrapes, made the best food in the world and they were always open for him to reach out to._

_If they left, will that hand stay open for him take when he needed it?_

_"You underestimate me, mein Liebling. I should be the one asking you that and your dad." She even chuckled, but he was in no mood to laugh, nor to smile because she was staying behind, here, and he and his dad would be going from place to place with no certainty of even going back because they never returned to a place when they've been there before and the distance between Halden and Tenerife was two-thousand and five-hundred twelve point seventy-seven miles, between Tenerife and Cairo was three thousand and six-hundred sixty-seven point two-hundred five miles, and between Cairo and Novosibirsk was a whopping five-thousand and one-hundred three point seven-hundred ninety-eight miles. Add them all together and there would be eleven-thousand and four-hundred three point seven hundred and seventy-three miles, that would separate him and his father from his mother in just three years._

_Her fingers descend, and they wipe away his tears with only the gentleness only a mother could only ever do. He committed it to memory, and for the years to come, he vowed that this shall be the last time she will wipe his tears away. "I'll see you soon."_

Idly, a hand trailed up his neck. The pitted feel of the silver chain hidden among his clothes scraped through the material of his gloves.

* * *

"So here you are after all." She had slipped out of the party again. Murmurs and music from inside the ballroom drifted to even here in his hiding place, seated on the balustrade's surface with a half-empty glass of champagne that Count Saazbaum insist he take. And it was thankfully empty, both before the moment he arrived and while he stayed. Versians liked staying in the loop of things hence why they're always mingling.

Slaine offered a light shrug. He felt awkward in his clothes. Probably in light of the fact that it was the only suit he's owned his entire life. Possibly for it were the same suit he's worn to his father's funeral. Didn't they say back on Earth that this is considered unlucky?  _But, you're not on Terra, are you?_  A faceless Vers knight reminded him once. "I do not do well in parties, Your Highness."

"You used to, though." She placed her hands behind her back, approaching him from where he sat. Here in Mars, the air was breathable, yet thin, unlike on Earth where air is plenty, and the breeze is cool once night falls.

"What are you doing here, Princess?" Slaine amends with a smile as she joins him. Her arm brushes his as she sits to his left, bringing with her a pleasant whiff of her perfume and wine.

Immediately as he asked this she gave him an annoyed pout. "Why do you ask? Am I not allowed to look for you? In the first place, you were supposed to be inside with me, remember? Count Cruhteo's instructions were very clear." He laughed slightly. Oh, it was clear alright, clear in the way she'd never understand how he had to privately deal with having a very frightening end of a cane pressed against his sternum as he nodded along to the threat of beheading _should the princess be humiliated in anyway by being in her presence_ after he'd been instructed to keep an eye on her.

"I just went for some air, princess. I did warn you that parties do not sit well with me."

"Yes, you went for air you say." Asseylum says in a flat voice. "This coming from the person who once said that air on Vers is almost nonexistent. You even disappeared the moment we arrived, Slaine. How classy of you."

Slaine gave her a wry smile. "My apologies, Princess."

She seemed to soften up, as the next moment she had giggled as if he'd made a humorous line. And then she hums the music from the inside, providing a nice fill from the comfortable silence they have fallen to. Slaine tilted his head up to look at the view of the stars, looking up and wondering if he could find some constellations.

What day is it again? The 2nd of May? Time…he didn't know. He didn't have a watch on his person tonight. Ah, is that Crux? Or is it Virgo? Then he cursed to himself because there are literally hundreds of constellations that he can see (but cannot discern) at this point. A sky full of stars when the sky is deep space itself. His thoughts came to a stop after she decides to bump his shoulder with her own. She was smiling that mischievous smile that made her eyes squint and her lips to curve more on one side that it looked rather like a smirk and not a smile.

Flushing, he asked her. "Is there a problem, Your Highness?"

"None at all, Slaine." She shrugged. "I was just looking at you."

Again, with no brake to her words…Slaine stammered for a reply, but she just laughed. Then she came closer, distance nonexistent and the inches gone. She was leaning on him, her head perched on his shoulder and he was stiff with surprise. The hand that was far from her shifted restlessly as it drew random patterns on the balustrade, clenched and splayed out, fingers twisting and picking on imaginary lints on his pants. The gloves became a little uncomfortable. He swallowed, his heart racing while all he could think of right now is _she's so close so very very close she is leaning on me with her head on my shoulder and why is she doing this?_

For a while, no words were exchanged. For a moment, he allowed himself to think that they were just another pair of human beings with no titles and diversions that separated them. She started humming again, her melodic voice closer and he was sorely tempted to ask her to dance (and to top it off he hadn't even given her a compliment yet because he felt like choking every second he tried). He settled on swirling the glass of champagne in his hand, admiring soft golden light from inside the ballroom and the reflection of a billion stars and the way they reflect back on the light amber liquid.

"Time with you is much more pleasant." Asseylum chirps.

"That's...that's what you always say, Your Highness." He curtly points out with a loud clearing of his throat.

She giggled. "Taking into account that it's true, what say do you have on it?" He blushed. He was momentarily relieved that she was in such position that didn't allow her to chance a look at his face.

"I don't think I have an answer to that, my lady."

"Then that's all there is to it."

"May I ask why, though?" He could not help but ask. If she was going to keep ruffling his feathers then he'll have his shot at it too while he's feeling confident. Which he will surely thoroughly regret later, he was sure.

"I like you." She smiled.

He couldn't return her smile.

"Compared to the people inside that room, Slaine, do you think I have someone else of the same age as I?" She points to the double doors. "Can you give me a list of names, people who consider me as a friend? Are there people in there that would look at me and not think 'There she is, Princess Asseylum, beloved princess of Vers?' Do you think I know someone that I do _not_ know, in there? From the Counts, to the Counts' wives up to the names of the servants? Will there come a moment that I can sit for more than three seconds and not prolong the pain in my feet and legs from standing and walking around so much while feeling like my cheeks are going to fall off from smiling too much?"

The questions threw him off. He felt disoriented. "Um, pardon me—"

"Yes?"

He falls silent; backtracking his words. Her retort no longer needed, an exhausted sigh escaped her mouth. He felt her head nudge up his shoulder higher, bringing her much more closer than ever, and she relaxed. Somehow the heaviness of her head on his shoulder didn't quite match the weight of the sudden guilt he felt to the weight of her exhaustion. He replayed her words over and over, each conclusion different from the last he has drawn answers from.

And then she sighed. "Will you keep your word that you will not let this be known by anyone else but you?"

Her head lifted from his shoulder, and he finds himself staring back at the dark bags that stand out against the ivory of her skin, under her eyes. For the first time, he was able to look at just how young she really was. How wary like he was. Tongue-tied, he slid off his place, kneeling in front of her forlorn gaze as placed a hand on his chest and bowed his head. He pretends he doesn't know what her stare was telling as she looked away, refusing to look down as he knelt.

"On my honor, Your Highness."

This is how they should be, the rightful placement of a cadet like him and the princess.

This is for the best. 

* * *

She turned eleven two months and twenty-two days after his own. A party had been set for her sake. Naturally, every Vers citizen whether they liked it or not, was given the opportunity to wish the princess a congratulations. It was not everyday Slaine saw the average Vers citizen. Only his father could leave the palace grounds and actually explore the environment proper of Vers. He always imagined Versian people living so loftily and, well, _grandly_ , since they possess such a _fancy name_ and a _fancy attitude_ that was as if they were a _better class_ of the human race, which is _exactly_ what they think they are.

At least, the aristocrats did.

As he took in the sight, he wished he hadn't. He could tell that his father didn't like what he saw either, when he saw how he grimaced. If the princess was all ivory alabaster, the common people of Vers were a whiter shade of pale. Practically skin and bones, their eyes vacant and bereft of life. They all wore borrowed dresses and suits, and each of them was a stark contrast to the other, each vivid color hurting his eyes from the way they brought a stark unpleasantness against the unhealthy pale. Majority of them look as if they are ready to fall out of their clothes from the sheer size difference. They gave no look of adoration as they bowed, one by one, to the reigning monarchs.

_This is the people of the Vers Empire?_

"Slaine," his father murmured, calling his attention from the poverty-stricken citizens. He turned to acknowledge his father, felt the slight clench of a bigger hand on his shoulder. "What you see, my boy—no, what  _we_  are seeing right now...this is what I see every day of our life here."

It is not a pretty sight. The room was in hushed silence; he and his father were not quite in the middle but not quite to the side of the Versian aristocrats, but he could hear them whisper anyway, judgment and scorn in their expressions of indifference. Most especially the ones with more power. He hears them murmur discrimination of their own kind, and he is not sure whether which discrimination is worse: their own or not their own? _Both_ , an impervious voice states somewhere in his mind, and he agrees.Both. Definitely both.

He could hardly believe it. He glanced up towards the throne, to the left of the emperor, the seat where the princess sat. She had not been more than surprised and horrified at that moment, when she saw the state of impoverishment upon her people; people they expect her to one day rule. _Could she really rule a planet with her people wasting out?_ He thinks this with concern.  _No_ , he corrects,  _how could anyone rule like this? How could anyone rule a dying empire?_ The emperor—how could he stand this? Does he not care that half of his empire is crumbling, and when the time comes, it will all be his granddaughter's burden to carry?

The princess may be young, but she is not naive to the principles between the precarious balance of poverty and luxury. He couldn't help but wonder how she was faring right now; frozen in her grand throne as her people stared at her with a dying hope that maybe, maybe their lives will take a turn a few years after she is crowned as empress, and she will lead them out of their misery and towards a brighter future. Maybe they wouldn't be picking up crumbs and scraps from the food of the rich and harvesting rocks to eat. Maybe…a little more of maybe not.

Once the buzz died down and the emperor allowed her to step down her seat to mingle, the princess had zoomed straight to him, easily able to pick him apart from the crowd and grabbing his sleeve to drag him somewhere quiet and more importantly, away from the presence of the people she would one day rule. And in the privacy of his presence, she cried.

He held her, a little awkwardly and red-faced (he'd never held a girl—and this is the princess!—so intimately before) as she cried and soaked his shirt.

"Those are my  _people_? How can they be  _my people_ , Slaine? Why do they look as if they've suffered being buried alive for days? For years?"

He shushed her the best he could, finding no experience on how he should deal with matters like these. _Ah_ , he thought with frustration. He didn't have any handkerchief with him. How was he supposed to do this?

"You will rule them in time, princess." And she nods, but her anguish is overflowing as well as her tears.

"I will rule a dying empire, Slaine." She croaks. He makes a move to wipe her tears away, but she steps back and holds out a hand to stop him. He watches her, younger, a gap of a year between them yet she looked wiser as she furiously wiped her cheeks until her face is red with friction and her eyes burned with resolution.

"Not unless you make a difference, princess." He offers. Her head snaps up, a bright frown of thoughtful indifference taking away her youth. He turns then, just realizing they were on a veranda encased in glass, and the view is of the moon, beautiful and shattered, cosmic debris ever so passing by slowly, Earth a distance away. It also offers a view of what he could consider the slums of the empire—overshadowed by a holographic illusion of flowers and beauty. They stretch over far and wide, but to what degree? Illusions can only hold for so long until it gives away. This simple pretension said a lot things, and most of them, in his opinion were stepping beyond the lines of morality. Seeing her cry like this...will she get swept away in it too, when it is her time to rule? Swept away by power and influence, blind to her people's suffering? In a situation like this, it is terribly easy to lose one's innocence to the world. And if there was one thing he truly took into mind when dealing with things with more than one outcome, is to never speak of the end.

Yet this doesn't stop him from believing that she will rise, and in her ascent she will take with her a bright future for her people, and for the people of his home.

Red-faced from all her attempts to stop her tears, she clenches her hands and declares with utmost purpose, "Set it in stone, Slaine. I promise I will."

Perhaps it was this decision that made his heart stir for the first time in months after her sincere interest on his home. He didn't really get it himself, in all frankness, but with that decision, he realized that a line drew. Up until that moment, they have always been friends. To her, he was her only friend—maybe even her best friend, if she knew what that meant. Maybe he thought of her as the same. And not. She'd always been a little special to him, after all. But that line has been drawn, with her on the other side and he is on the other.

Because at the end of the day, she is the princess, and he is a  _Terran_ of no importance.

It will never be.

So why was it that he had gone to his father the same night, with the words that left his mouth clear and strong and not unlike the boy he is supposed to be: "I wish to partake in the Vers Imperial Forces Recruitment, father.", tumbling out of his mouth with such confidence?


	3. Hyggelig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> —adj. (Danish) a feeling of openness, warmth & friendship often between friends; a complete absence of anything annoying, irritating or emotionally overwhelming, and the presence of and pleasure from comforting, gentle and soothing things
> 
> though, in this case, Eddelrittuo was anything but a friend. at first.

* * *

_"Ah, finally, Your Highness. Where have you been? I told you to come straight here after your lecture."_

_"I apologize, Count. You see I thought it would be much more fitting if I appear refreshed. No one would want to see the Princess of Vers in a very unbecoming state, right?"_

_"Well, yes, to a certain extent, but if I'm not mistaken, you only have one subject for today. Is there something you're not telling, my lady?"_

_"…I have gone to the observation room with Slaine. Just for a few minutes."_

_A sharp glare was sent to his direction. Three years of experiencing it has perhaps hardened him from being too shaken from it, because even when he felt it, he hardly gave a care anymore, pointedly looking straight. Being beaten with a cane hurt much more than receiving a few dirty looks. Slaine didn't move from his position behind the princess who unabashedly told the truth of her previous whereabouts._

_"'Few minutes'? My lady, you were late for three and half hours!"_

_"…Oh. Is that right? I'm sorry."_

_Sigh. "As we have more important business to take care of at the moment, I shall let this matter slide, but please. Next time, I shall **not** condone it any further. And you should know better, Your Highness."_

_"_ _Yes, yes, Count Cruhteo. You always say that."_

_"That is because you never listen to me, Princess."_

_"Those matters aside, what am I needed here for, Count?"_

_Cruhteo moved then, aside, and behind him stood a young girl, no more than in her prepubescent years. And from the looks of it, nervous, from the way her fingers bunched up her dress, the hunch of her shoulders and the slight trembles she gave off no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Slaine carefully noted her young face, lips set into a wavering thin line and her averted mauve stare. The princess seemed to not notice her, yet.  Cruhteo laid a hand on the younger girl's braided caramel locks as something akin to a pat on the head; she flinched just a little, turning whiter than paper as he looked down at her and the princess' gaze drifted from him and to her finally, just noticing her. A blonde eyebrow rose, question in her gaze._

_"Your new guardian, is what you're needed here for. For this matter you would no longer require Slaine Troyard's privileged services from now on but his loyalty as a soldier and his duty to our country. And, from this day onward, Eddelrittuo will be here to answer to your every demand and serve you twice effectively as Slaine had done, and this time she will provide you all of the proper assistance, guidance, and the propriety that Her Highness deserves."_

_"W—wait just a minute, Count. I thought this would be addressed next week? Why was I not informed?"_

_"Yes, that is true, but it had been the Emperor's decision. We are deeply sorry for not informing you properly, but they were all in good intentions. We feared you might not agree to it."_

_"That much is obvious, is it not, Count?"_

_Cruhteo gave a resigned sigh at the profound bitterness at the tone of her voice. Then Asseylum turned to Slaine, her gaze questioning and a bit pleading, something he noticed that Cruhteo rose an eyebrow at yet didn't comment on. Merely looked at him, then towards the girl named Eddelrittuo._

_"Then…then what about Slaine?"_

_He stiffened. Ah, she didn't know yet._

_"Troyard will be under my command from now on. In a few months' time, I will return to my landing castle, and I shall be taking Slaine with me in preparation for your goodwill visit to Terra—" Slaine cringed to himself. "—fourteen months from now. Do take this to mind, Princess Asseylum."_

_"I refuse."_

_"I'm afraid you have not much say in the matter regarding Slaine, Princess. In addition to that, do you not want someone else much more appropriate in regards to taking charge of you? Eddelrittuo is perfectly equipped with the knowledge and the skills to handle the responsibility of you."_

_"Slaine is fine."_

_"Slaine is still very much a cadet, Princess. He has sworn his fealty to our country, and this country he shall serve with no excuses. It is not in a soldier's responsibility to serve the princess in a very direct manner. And he is a male. How can he possibly help you when you are in need of womanly guidance?"_

_"I am not helpless!"_

_"But you had Troyard with you making sure of that, Highness."_

_Asseylum sputtered, her fists clenched in a defiant, tight ball. Then she turned her head to look at Slaine, her cheeks red with an irritated flush as she pouted. He could have laughed, but he was wary of her reaction to the situation as it was true. He had not met her newest caretaker directly, but he knew of Eddelrittuo beforehand. **Like any other Versian, prejudiced towards us ~~Terrans~~**. And the Count had taken him to his command, indeed, reasons he deemed because no other people were willing to handle him as their responsibility, and the fact that he was an aspiring cadet with much promise. Count Cruhteo's words. Slaine hardly believed it himself._

_"So, then, Princess. Meet Eddelrittuo, your new guardian." Cruhteo swept a hand towards Asseylum, lightly pushing Eddelrittuo towards her direction. "Eddelrittuo, meet Princess Asseylum. I shall be entrusting her in your care."_

_"Y—yes, Count Cruhteo!" The younger girl gasped._

_Slaine dared to spare a glance towards the princess, wondering what she was thinking, but then stiffened with knowing exasperation at the careful, blank-faced expression she had pieced. Oh, no._

_"Troyard, come this way, with me."_

_Cruhteo's tone conveyed no refusals. Slaine found it difficult to reply as he stared at Eddelrittuo, then at Asseylum, as the older man steadily got closer. "Yes, my lord."_

_Alarmed, the princess asked. "Where are you both going?"_

_"Best you get acquainted with Eddelrittuo first, Highness. We shall be back in a few." Cruhteo replied, nodding her a goodbye._

_Perhaps it hadn't been a good idea to have left her alone with Eddelrittuo so soon. Perhaps none of them knew what the outcome would be if they did so. But perhaps if only Slaine had decided to refuse, or to stay as their means of security, maybe he could have persuaded the princess to be nice—nicer._

_Yes, perhaps a hysterical Eddelrittuo in tears and a blank-faced, yet surely irritated Princess Asseylum, both on the far ends of the room they have been left in, could have been avoided the moment he and the Count came back._

_One thing was sure, though. Princess Asseylum did not like Eddelrittuo._

_At first._

* * *

" _…du nicht weisst…Aus eigen…em—_ "

He winced, halting his piss-poor attempt of even copying the lullaby his mother sang to him years before when he inhaled pretty quickly, resulting in a sudden, sharp sting that made his knees shake. _Damn it_. He felt pissed, irritated at his weakness, but who does he have to blame but himself?

His side was killing him. His obliquus externus had taken the brunt of the impact, and there was no doubt that there is probably a bruise now, given that it had been a more than an hour since he got struck to the side during hand-to-hand combat exercises. It had been a blunder on his part; not covering his midsection from that mean kick that left him breathless and sprawled on his back, trying to recover his breath as his sparring partner got the final point that declared him the winner, not bothering to help him up.

Slaine took in a deep breath, a hand pressed against his throbbing bruise as he traversed the halls of the palace. It's about time for supper right now, but he didn't have the appetite, nor the motivation to face a huge bunch of people. Then after supper, it was supposed to be his time to spend with her. Princess Asseylum. It'd been two weeks since he last saw her, and he often wondered what she was doing. Where she was, and who was in her company, now that she'd been appointed with a new guardian he had no other reasons to keep hovering around her. Protocol doesn't allow him to.

Though, he was saying that…he did miss her. But he wasn't going to say that out loud.

"Excuse me!" A huffing, out of breath voice called from behind him, breaking him out of his thoughts about the princess as he raised his head and turned. A girl, no more than twelve, with mauve eyes and tightly braided caramel hair and the uniform that younger maids wore—Eddelrittuo. The unsuspecting look that she had as she approached dissolved into a disappointed frown when she got closer, just realizing whom he was. Slaine sighed.

"Good evening, Eddelrittuo. How can I help you?" He still asked, politely.

"…Princess Asseylum…" Eddelrittuo took a step back, clasping her arms behind her back and looking away. "I can't find her." There was a barely hidden intoned frustration lacing her statement, but beneath it, there was worry—the slightest twitch of her fingers, her darting stare from the hallways and possible places where the princess could be.

Slaine chuckled, "Again?"

An embarrassed look came upon her face, reddening her cheeks as she glared at him, turning her head away from him and harrumphing as she stuck her nose up the air. Here was another brat, for another brat. The only difference was that she disliked him instead of adored him.

"Is Her Highness's agenda for today finished, though?" He asked again.

Eddelrittuo spared him a small, contemptuous glance. Then she dug a out a folded piece of paper from her pocket, extending a hand towards him but she did not look his way. His eyebrows rose as he approached and held it. He scanned its contents; subjects? Time… _Why_ was his name scribbled in favor over Count Mazuurek at the subject of Earth's Culture? He looked at Eddelrittuo questioningly.

"Her Highness' schedule for today. She—she has specifically instructed me to give it to you should I encounter you." She huffed, taking a few steps back. "Her Highness had insisted on finding you for her last commitment. But her last subject have ended…um, three hours ago? I have been looking for her but…"

He glanced once more at the piece of paper for a few moments before pocketing it. Next he approached her and crouched in front of her, laying a hand on her hair that Eddelrittuo squeaked, a vehemently scandalized cross expression on her face that Slaine could not help but grin slightly at. 

"Still no better, huh?" Slaine asked softly, stroking her hair carefully so he won't ruin her braid.

The tension left her stance as her shoulders slumped. Eddelrittuo gave no reply, but her hands balled into her dress, and that was enough an answer. Right at this moment, he wished he'd remained as the princess' warden; if it meant that Eddelrittuo would not get this kind of treatment, he didn't mind with taking on the task of being the princess' guardian. Besides, taking care of her was as natural as breathing.

Shaking his head out of his thoughts, Slaine offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile towards Eddelrittuo as she stared right back. "Just hang in there, alright? It's not easy, but she's a lot more nicer than you think."

Eddelrittuo sniffed and gave a frown. "You're saying that because you're Her Highness' friend."

"…But as of this moment, I am a cadet." He shook his head, his smile strained. "I can't be there for her the way she wants me to, but I'm here for her the way I am needed to be." He stood back up. "Duty comes first."

"But fulfilling your part as Her Highness' friend is considered as a form duty, too." He blinked, surprised. Eddelrittuo reddened, steepling all her fingers together in a expanding-contracting motion. "W—well. Not that I would know! It's only an opinion, since Her Highness doesn't even see me as a friend—"

"Don't do that." He frowned.

"Don't do what?" She frowned back.

"Talk like that," Slaine messed with her hair and she gasped, really annoyed now, as she swatted his hand away to fix the stray locks. He grinned at her angry pout. "Give out something that is worth being thought about then let yourself down after. Don't. Lose that negative habit. Embrace your worth."

"E—embrace?"

"It's just an expression." Eddelrittuo pursed her lips at him with a mildly disturbed expression.

"You're odd, Sir Slaine."

Slaine raised his palms at this. "Oh, no. Just Slaine is fine, Eddelrittuo. I'm not a knight." He chuckled. Odd? That's what the princess said before.

She frowned, confused now. "You're not? Oh…I was mistaken. I'm sorry."

"Why would you think I am a knight, in the first place?"

Eddelrittuo wrung her hands together as a thoughtful hum resounded from her. "The Princess holds you in such high regard. And from what I have heard, much of the Counts have expressed relatively positive interest in your abilities as a cadet." _What?_ She must be kidding him. All he ever heard from them is harsh, harsh criticism for being Earth-born. Why the hell would they sing him praises? And what for? _It doesn't make sense…_ "Then…then if you're not a knight, then what is your position, actually?"

Slaine shrugged. "A cadet. A subservient. Count Cruhteo's servant, a member of the Versian Army Imperial Forces. A soldier-to-be."

Eddelrittuo rolled her eyes, her attempt to slide away coming off humorous as he grinned. "Just one answer could have been enough…"

He chuckled, "Maybe so."

"This conversation is making no sense!" She grunted.

Slaine cracked an amused snort and placed his hands on his hips. "So? You're feeling better, aren't you?" He saw her flinch, hunch in on herself, but slowly and reluctantly, nodded her head just a bit. With that, he sighed contentedly and patted her head again. This time, she didn't shy away. "I'm glad."

"…You're Terran, aren't you, Master Slaine?"

He paused for a bit, at the Terran and the master—it felt foreign, somehow unnerving to be called like that—part, pursing his lips. "Yes." He replied, curtly. "Please don't address me as 'master'. It feels wrong."

Eddelrittuo hummed, clearly ignoring what he said after. "What's it like? Being Terran?"

"…There's really no difference, if you think about it." Slaine shrugged. "Versian or Earth-born. Either way we're human. With blood running through our veins, with beating hearts and a pair of lungs. With limbs and ten fingers, five each hand and five on each foot. We have ideals and beliefs we live by, no more how different from each other they could be. We have feelings, we get hurt, we love and we hate. We bleed and we get up. Versian or Earth-born. Both races are as human as they could get. That's what I believe in. It's hers, too."

"Her?"

"Princess Asseylum's." Eddelrittuo blinked in surprise. "She told me, that like Earth people, Versians are just as human as Earth people."

"What?" Eddelrittuo shook her head. "That can't be right. As Vers royalty, Highness should already know that from the moment the First Emperor inherited the will of the Aldnoah, all of us with Vers blood that course through our veins became a different race from the ones that were on Terra. Humans of Terra and people of Vers are not one in ancestry, at least not anymore. And it's just…the way she, um…"

Eddelrittuo continued to gape, and Slaine dropped his hand to his side as he smiled at her. "The true beauty of Her Highness lies on the fact that she is not prejudiced. She can be a bit of a brat, but she's not cruel. She's kind and she doesn't see nor bring up differences. She won't stand for any of your excuses, but she's willing to listen to your problems, if you ever have any. She's a princess, but she will never use her title to draw a line between the two of you, in fact, she disliked differences being pointed out. You can call her a bit flighty, too, yes, but her freedom is what makes her the person she is. You can't hold her down just because you want to. And believe me, I have tried, countless times, but she will always find ways to break out. You just can't help but…flow along. It's fun, and a little ridiculous, but being with her is…more than what words could describe."

Then, he paused, realizing just what he had said in front of her. Slaine reddened, sharply turning his head away when she looked up at him strangely, in a different light that he didn't understand. It wasn't the usual, judging glower nor the impossible shine of friendliness either. But almost calculating. Somehow curious.

"You—you probably don't need to hear such words from me…I mean, you should see it for yourself. I think you're the "seeing is believing" kind of person…"

"I get it." To his astonishment, she cracked a smile at him. It's not out of happiness nor a friendly grin; like the knowing curvature on the Cheshire cat's face because she must have figured it out already. Slaine sighed. _That obvious, huh?_

"Well. Whatever you're thinking or whatever you've figured out, keep it for yourself. Please." He straightened up, tugging on the bottom of his uniform sternly. "I…can't possibly add what I feel to whatever the princess' matters are."

"Who said I cared about that sort of thing?" She laughed. "All I intend to prioritize is Her Highness and her well-being, Master Slaine."

Slaine chuckled nervously. "Should I be offended or should I be glad…?"

"It depends. Were you offended?"

"No, I wasn't."

"Then there you have it." She stepped back then, bowing her head slightly as he watched. "Well, then. If you'd excuse me. I still have to…um, find Princess Asseylum."

"I'll let you know if I find her." He told her as she passed him by. Eddelrittuo blinked twice in tune to her passing, all judgment gone from her gaze but the lingering questions that he sees. "Oh! Also, I advice you rest first, too. I'm sure that you're tired from all that searching."

"Just so you know, I don't dislike you for the fact that you are Terran, Master Slaine." She huffed, mimicking an annoyed expression.

Eddelrittuo left him, Slaine, still with surprise and incredulity even when she was long gone.

* * *

If there was something else odd that evening, counting the fact that he finally managed a semi-decent conversation with Eddelrittuo, the words she told him, and how surprised he still felt over them, he would have not considered seeing Princess Asseylum herself as the weirdest thing he had encountered that day just after making a few more turns in the palace halls in the quarters he had been given after he took part in the recruitment program, lounging comfortably on the otherwise unused couch that sat in front of the window, overlooking the orbit of the shattered moon and of the Earth. For the past three hours, this is where she had been? In his quarters, while poor Eddelrittuo was tiring herself out by looking for her?

In the first place, who would have thought that the princess will find a good place to hide by slinking into a soldier's quarters?

"Princess!" At his call she jumped, alarm clearly written all over her face as she stood, a pillow falling off her lap. _His_ pillow. He blushed before he could get a hold of himself.

"Slaine!" She gasped. "You found me? How did you do that? How did you find me? Aww, and I thought no one would be able to find me in here…!"

"I did not." Slaine frowned. "It was simply by chance. And anyway!" He braced himself. "Princess, you—"

A hand was on his face, halting him from speaking any further. Effectively distracted, Slaine's eyes darted from her hand to her face as she leaned in close, his cheeks turning pink. Then for a moment, he felt a tiny sting on his side and panic gripped him in it's icy grip; had she found out? Maybe that explains why she's so quiet. He felt conscious of his bruise, and that he was alone in the presence of the princess, within the privacy of his quarters. She was touching him, and he could do nothing but stare and be still because,  _what is she thinking at the moment?_ He wished to push her hand away; he knew that it will be enough, and enough meant that he would surely succumb to the anchor of the feelings he swore not to think about a long time ago.

"I've not seen you for days." She commented, and her lips curved into a soft smile. "I almost thought I would forget your face if it went on for too long. I would have none of that, though."

"P—Pardon me, but it is only natural as you are princess royal, so…" He stammered.

Thank Vers he wore gloves. _It made things easier_. Even if he held her hand right now she wouldn't even notice how cold it was from unease, and to kiss her hand was too much of a second nature to be flustered about. So he did just that with one knee down and his head held low, lips poised over the rise of her knuckles for a light peck. He also notices the way she turned her head away, a frown on her face, and it stayed that way until his head rose.

"Rise, Slaine." She muttered, pouting. "Why must you always kneel?"

"My Lady, forgive me if I may be out of line, but I am sure you know where the both of us stand, correct?"  _Don't show anything. Know your place,_ he reminded himself.  _You'll never be._

Asseylum scowled, and yet even the face of her irritated expression, he kept himself calm and lax about the thoughts of appeasing her.

"I wasn't pertaining to that." Her arms crossed.

So much for keeping calm. His irritation sparked just a bit and he could not help but snap back, "But we both know what you really mean, Highness." He was going to regret this sudden insolence later, but right now she needed to get his point across. _It can never be._ Will never be. Why can't she understand that? Why does she  _refuse_ to understand that

Her eyes narrowed. "No, you don't, Slaine."

"No, Highness," his fists clenched at his sides, trying to keep himself in check—barely. "It is you who doesn't get it. Please understand."

_Please._

"What are you even talking about? You're hurt, aren't you?" Slaine flinched.  _Oh._ So that's what she was talking about. The back of his neck burned as well as his cheeks. Embarrassment crawled up his chest and he looked away as he saw her smug grin.  _Oh, god._ How stupid! Now he regretted his words thrice than he expected he would feel. She'd been concerned, but he went on about on the unspoken… _something_ between the two of them when he, of all people, _shouldn't_  do so. He experienced the aftermath of what happened before when they _did_ , and he did not want a repeat of it. It's better this way. Better for her.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"Uh—"

She was on him in seconds, prodding him around: his cheeks, his jawline, down to his shoulders and finally to the bruise he gingerly held a hand over. Asseylum scoffed when he grimaced when she poked it through his fingers. He was too miffed at himself to fight her off of him, very aware of her obvious hovering. "How could you let yourself get hurt!"

"Ah…well…training, Your Majesty. It's only natural."

Narrowed eyes narrowed further. "It's also natural for you to receive medical care, is it not? If you ever get wounded? Hurt?"

He could do nothing but sigh. There was no escaping it, now. Not when she already knew, seeing through his words and everything and anything that has to do with him. He opted not to reply, averting his gaze somewhere else. Just not her dazzling emeralds for eyes that burned holes at his face.

Slaine expected any kind of angry comment at this; a fierce tug, or a scathing look, but he received none of those. She wasn't even looking at him anymore, staring at her hand so pointedly that he grew concerned and made a move to grasp her hand when he realized what he was doing. He dropped his hand, biting his lip and taking the slightest step back. He jolted when her head snapped up and she went even closer, her stride easily outmatching his baby steps.

"Don't move," she quietly ordered, and Slaine stared, self-consciously touching his side but she held his hand away, the warmth of her enclosed palm that wrapped his wrist seeping through the ends of his glove, placing a palm over where he had his hand on previously. Slaine flinched. Yet her hand didn't make contact; not even on the fabric of his uniform. He blinked, incredulous.

"Your Highness?"

"Shh," she closed her eyes, seemingly concentrating. He was concentrating on not moving, because she told him to, and concentrating on not letting the awkwardness he felt show lest he fidget, because he will move, and she told him not to. What was she doing.

He almost moved, startled, when her hand began to glow—a beautiful glow that made her ivory skin emit an ethereal quality; soft; a vignette and he stared at her, at her eyes, and quietly reveled on the twinkles that the light of her hand made as she stared at where she held her hand over, not touching him, yet he felt warmth. But his bruise wasn't giving him sudden sharp stings anymore every time he breathed—dissolving into a slight tingle, the kind of sensation you would get once a bruise was a few days old. 

Mystified as her hand's glow subsided, he watched her breathe heavily and withdraw, her expression perturbed as she clasped her hands together in front of her. His fingers prodded his side carefully; it still hurt, but it didn't hurt that much anymore.

"I apologize. At the moment, I am still learning how to…utilize the Aldnoah properly just like how grandfather does. How do you feel?"

"B—Better," Slaine blurted out, still unbelieving of the spectacle that he had just witnessed. "Though, uh…there's still something, but that's it, Princess."

"Better enough that you can stand properly?" At this, his shoulders squared and his spine straightened. Asseylum giggled. "At ease, Slaine. There's no need to be so stiff."

Slaine shook his head for the slightest bit. She sighed, despairingly.

"Well," she chirped in a much lighter tone. "What say do you have on it?"

"…I thought the Aldnoah is only capable of limited endowments…?"

She smiled mysteriously, "Some things, you just know."

"That's amazing, Princess!" She blinked, her cheeks coloring pink. "Thank you, Princess. Letting me witness something like this…I'm honored, Your Highness! Father would have—" He paused. She did, too, because for second, her mouth opened before she snapped it shut, her eyes going downcast.

Slaine gnawed on his bottom lip. They _never_ talked about that. Would _never_ talk about that.

Her hands wring and he sees it.

"But it's…It's not that great, Slaine…" her head ducked, and she has noticeably changed the subject. "Compared to what grandfather…and mother and father could do…this is nothing but a speck of what Aldnoah could offer. I still have lots to learn."

The restraint he feels over the previous subject falls away. Slaine's eyes soften, daring himself to step closer. The top of her head barely reached the top of his nose, and he felt taken aback—she'd grown so fast. Just a few months ago, she was just up to his shoulder. She was small, and she was also so much trouble. But he just can't—and wouldn't dare—describe her as frail nor fragile. If he ever did she'd call it an insult.

"Hey," she met his stare, her hands fitting just right in the cradle of his when he took them together. "You have time. Humility is not a bad thing, but you should always remember that you are wonderful and amazing, Your Highness." His cheeks flushed, red with disconcerted heat as hers darkened. It seems as it wasn't just him who felt abashed. "T—Time. You can always grow and develop in time, is what I mean."

"I know that." She murmured, voice soft. "I know what you mean. And thank you, for that."

"You're most welcome, Princess."

They stood like that for a few moments. Looking, searching. Feeling. He felt brave enough to hold her stare, but he doesn't read minds, but he wanted to know hers. What was she thinking right now? His breath left him as her head thumped against his chest, her blonde locks covering her face. Slaine's hands around her own tightened its hold, shoulders tensed but she either didn't care, or didn't notice. Maybe it was both. He wouldn't know. He was too preoccupied on thinking how she won't hear how his heart was pounding at the sudden elimination of space.

She's so close. Too close. He wished he could hold her closer.

"I can…feel it in you," Asseylum continued. "It's faint…a small spark. Like the smallest ray of sunlight that passes through a crack, but it's there." Her head burrows further. "It's there."

He gazed at the back of her head, conscious of her proximity, and the pleasant scent that pervaded his senses surely came from the locks of her hair. And they darn tickled his nose, too.

But what was she pertaining to? "What's 'there'?"

"Aldnoah." Slaine's eyes grew in size at this information.

"What? Princess, please don't joke about that kind of thing. It's not…" He reeled, deeming the situation too impossible to be true. He couldn't have…he's never—but wait. A memory of four years ago strikes him suddenly—of a girl and her savior hands, a broken rocket ship, and water beneath her feet. Hands on his cheeks as liquid surged up his airway. The debt he's yet to pay for the salvation of his life. It wasn't a kiss. "What—what happens then?"

He carefully took her shoulders, pushing her at arms' length away and her eyes are conflicted but she does nothing as he pushes her away. No, she wasn't supposed to be that close to him. His heart was racing and if she had moved her head further she would have felt the tremors on his chest as his heartbeat raced. He was already flushed enough as is; he can't allow her to see just how much her mere proximity affected him. No, it'll be bad if she were to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Will—won't this cause problems? Both for you and I, Princess?"

Asseylum scoffed. "What they don't know won't hurt them. And I don't care. So long as it's you, I don't have any qualms about it." She leans forward just the slightest bit, her forehead knotting with her frown. "Unless, you have any?"

"Yes, of course I do! I sincerely hope you're not taking this matter so lightly, Princess, because I am taking it very seriously." He snapped, dropping his hands, dropping them to his sides as he frowned right back at her. "I do not deserve it, Your Highness. And I shouldn't deserve it. I can't possibly have such gift when I possess no knowledge of how to wield it. It's…it's not…it can't be mine. I'm sorry, but I can't accept it. It will change nothing for someone like me."

"But…I can't take back what's already…" She trailed off as her arm crossed over her midsection and grasped her wrist, her expression a cross of apologetic and a grimace.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "…I know." 

"I'm sorry." Her chin ducked further.

"So long as it stays in this state…" Slaine sighed. "As long as…I won't be able to exhibit it is fine, isn't it?"

"…If that's what you wish." She whispered halfheartedly. "I'm sorry. Are you angry?"

"Please stop apologizing, Your Highness." He gives her a weak smile. "It's just…a lot to take in right now. No…I'm not angry. Overwhelmed, yes."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop it." She remains unmoving. "I mean it, Your Highness. None of that." Her hands wring again, but she squares her shoulders and stands back up straight and raised her chin. He breathes, taking in her posture and her composure, pointedly looking back at her distracted gaze until she looked away and glowered at something he can't see. Another stern stare from him stopped her from muttering. Good girl. 

This is her.

How Princess Asseylum should only be seen.

Regal, composed, her people's crowning pillar of hope. She must be resolute. Absolute in her authority. Slaine fixes her hair and brushes away any strays, tucking them behind her ear. _She'd undone her hair again from Eddelrittuo's_ _handwork_. He notes this to himself, then files it away to the recesses of his mind for future reference. Such a negative relationship; her and Eddelrittuo. It's not very becoming.

"Um…about Eddelrittuo," Slaine feels her grip on his hand tighten as he leads her towards the unused couch. He situates himself behind her over the headrest, gathering the locks of her hair in familiar expertise, knowing just what hairstyle she would have preferred. He doesn't linger on the silken touch, even with the gloves on. He already knew how they felt, wrapped around his fingers and weaving through each digit from the times she allowed him to touch her hair when they were younger, not knowing the boundaries of their supposed closeness. "I don't suppose you realize just how hard she was looking for you when you decided to hide out here?"

"I told her I wished to be alone, though." She shrugs in an almost uncaring manner.

"Still, Your Highness. It was incredibly rude to her, pardon my insolence." He retrieves the pair of elastics she had given him, fingering away the chunk of blonde locks she liked to keep hanging over the side of her face as he tied her braids together at the back of her head. "You owe Eddelrittuo an apology."

"B—But Slaine…minutes ago…you told me to stop apologizing…" she fought back, albeit in a subdued voice, obviously disturbed.

Slaine chuckled. "That was a different matter; it doesn't count, Princess. Matters of you and I differ from matters of you and the other people around you."

"But why should I?" She sulkily mumbled. 

"You made her worry, you treat her so ill-mannerly, and you hid from her because you wished to be alone. And what's with this event I heard that you have taken on my form to avoid her, twice, hmm?" He felt her stiffen.

"I'm sorry, but she wouldn't leave me at peace." She squeaked, her shoulders bunching up as her embarrassment showed, but he hears the tiny slab of irritation she tried to hide, sighing as he did so.

"You can't just use another person's identity if you so wish, my lady. Not without permission."

"I'm sorry."

He finished with her hair and rounded up on her, kneeling in front of her and leveling his stare with hers. Fourteen and enfant terrible. Adorable but outspoken. Cheeky yet bighearted. Young in age as she was ancient in spirit. So near that he could kneel before her like this yet so unattainable. His chest twinged at the thought.

"How easy it is for you say your apologies to me, yet you turn your head away when I am not the one you are looking at." He gave her a bleak smile. "You should lose that habit, Princess. It's not…proper."

He watched as her mouth curved to an unhappy line, "But—but you're my friend."

_Is that how you really see me?_

"Please tell me honestly. Is it Eddelrittuo that you dislike, or do you dislike the fact that we can no longer be as we used to?"

Asseylum's mouth twitched. "N—Now that's not very fair." She looked away, something like urgency painting her face. "You can't ask me that kind of question, Slaine."

"As a cadet?"

She gave no reply. 

Slaine nervously breathed. "Then, what about as your friend?" What the hell is he doing? He could feel it, what the outcome of this conversation was going to be. Either way, one of them was going to wound up hurt.

She shifted at that, her fingers twitching and he noticed they were wringing so tightly together that he had to pry them apart, fearing for the safety of her fingers. Yet she still remained tight-lipped, blushing red and nowhere near to telling him what was really the matter. Maybe it was unfair of him to ask that kind of question. Because he already knew what her answer was. Her honesty had its limits, he understood that, but she had to understand their limitations, too. 

"I apologize," Slaine bowed his head, earnest and sincere as he backed the matter off. Out of her line of sight, he accessed his comm line with Eddelrittuo, the little box containing little conversation between the two of them, as he typed out that he had found her ward's whereabouts in swift succession so the princess wouldn't notice. "I was out of line. Forgive me, Your Highness."

"It's fine…" She tried to lighten her tone, but it faltered, leaving her trailing off and unsure. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles with the lightest of touches, giving her a warm smile while her cheeks darkened in color.

Slaine glanced at the sole window of the room; the skies dark and littered with a billion of glittering stars that do no justice to her shine.

"You must retire now, Princess Asseylum," he stood up, offering her a hand while she stared, at his hand then at him. "It's already so late."

Like always, her hand slid so easily into his. She stood, and he led her to the door. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

She shifted uneasily. "Aren't you going to rest, too?"

Slaine laughed. "I am already in my quarters, my lady."

The drop of her jaw proved much of her shock. His smile stretched further until it hurt as she stammered, regaining her blush as she looked at him then back to the contents of his bare quarters.

"How did you get inside, anyway?" He asked, amused, his lips quivering as he tried to get himself properly composed. "No one can't enter our quarters without the respective access card. Unless you used the Drive…" He mocked an accusing tone, amused as she scrambled to explain herself.

"N—No!" She shoved a card to his face, making him blanch back in surprise, platinum colored and different than the others; of course. A mastercard. "I—I used this, for your information. You can't possibly accuse me, the Princess of Vers, like this, Slaine!"

"Using your title against me, Princess? What changed?" He smirked. She harrumphed, but she was never able to hold back when she was going to smile. Crisis averted.

"You're my friend. Nothing has changed that." His gaze dropped as he gave a weak laugh back. "Aren't you going to escort me to my chambers? What are you waiting for?"

"I'm afraid no, Princess. I've contacted someone else much more fitting for that. They should be arriving shortly."

Asseylum frowned. "Who?"

The withering look she gave him amused him further as a familiar voice drifted through the hall of her left, frantic and severely worried. Footsteps hurried throughout the empty hallway, her mauve stare wide and on the verge of tears as she got closer. Asseylum just about tried to attach herself to him, unconsciously moving closer as he saw the caution written all over her face.

"Princess!" Eddelrittuo cried, cheeks blotched and her hair a mess.

"I shall bid you an early good night." Slaine hummed.

Slaine placed a hand on the lowest point of her waist, and gently pushed her back towards the nearing younger girl. He pried off her fingers around his wrist, beckoning her to come closer to Eddelrittuo as the young maid gripped her dress and stared in relief a little ways off from the both of them.

"Sorry if it took so long," said he. "But here is Her Highness."

"T—Thank you!" She bowed, her watery gaze making him smile.

"Princess?" He muttered, just for her to hear, and she turned her conflicted stare to him with a deep frown that settled over her face. "Please try, at least. Befriend her."

Her mouth opens to protest, but something seemed to hold her back, prompting her to close it and stretch into a submissive pout as she gave him a stink eye that he only smiled at.

"Remember what I said, Your Highness."

"You told me a lot of things." She sulked after, making her way to the now nervous Eddelrittuo without a glance back.

"Time, Your Highness. You have time to improve." She stopped for a second, yet he saw the split-second of the moment she nodded, now standing in front of Eddelrittuo while the girl looked up at her in a bated breath. 

Slaine watched as she lifted a wary hand, and the way Eddelrittuo flinches does not escape his eyes as she squeezed her eyes shut, most likely expecting a physical hit of some sort. Yet it never came. 

Eddelrittuo stood flabbergasted as Asseylum merely wiped her tears, a dark blush distorting her frown into a flustered grimace as her fingers prodded Eddelrittuo's cheeks. The younger girl could only gape, her surprise overriding her fear. Slaine crossed his arms and leaned against the wall closest to him, watching the exchange in silence.

"I—I'm sorry!" Eddelrittuo squeaked, taking a step back and using her sleeves to wipe her face with, embarrassed. "Her Highness shou—shouldn't have bothered…"

"No," Asseylum pursed her lips and crouched before her, ducking her head. "I'm sorry."

Eddelrittuo gasped, "No, Your Majesty…why are you saying sorry? There's nothing to be sorry for! And please don't crouch—"

But she shook her head. "I'm sorry." Asseylum raised her head, and held Eddelrittuo's hands in hers for the very first time, tightly and earnest. "I've never appreciated you properly and the way I was supposed to treat you. Forgive me."

A few more tears rolled off the other girl's eyes while she sniffed. "You were very mean, Princess…but I never—I never disliked you and I never thought of giving up on you because…to be with the princess is a privilege, and to serve Her Highness is an honor!" Eddelrittuo flushed brightly. "I really, really admire you, Princess!"

A wry grin curved onto said princess' lips. "I wish to be forgiven, yet you guilt me with such words that I do not deserve…"

Eddelrittuo only smiled. "My words are true, Princess."

Asseylum stands at her beckoning, and once fully standing up straight, she let Eddelrittuo's hands go, instead wrapping her in a full embrace that took the younger girl in surprise and she squeaked.

"I will be in your care." The princess whispered, and Eddelrittuo stilled. With her facing his way, Slaine could see her tearing up again, her fingers gripping her dress so tightly as she nodded to her acceptance. "Come on, let us retire."

"Y—Yes Princess!"

He watched them straighten up, smiling, and could not help but note the way she kept Eddelrittuo's hand in hers. But he caught her glance when she thought he wasn't looking—turning her much more redder when he gave her a thumbs-up with a particularly cheeky grin.

Until they were out of sight, Slaine did not leave his place and continued to stare as the beginnings of a new friendship unraveled before his eyes. Then, he took a step back into his room and avoided looking at the other unused bed as he bypassed it for the one he occupied. He was successful, but only for five steps, with three seconds to sit down, with two seconds to breathe, and with the last second he was staring at it before he realized it and he scowled viciously in utter helplessness.

This room has always been too large for two. Now it was just lonely for one.

Slaine clenched a fist on the chain around his neck. _Forget_ , his mind cried. _Forget._

He fell asleep on his side with his mind screaming to _forget_ and the memories of his mother and tried to forget his father's.


	4. Hagride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> —v. to afflict with worry, dread, need, or the like; torment.
> 
> dr. troyard—slaine troyard—princess asseylum—count cruhteo, and resolve.

* * *

He'd awakened in the middle of midnight in the uncomfortable rustle of his uniform and the chain around his neck halfway to gagging him, and when he had shed his clothes and took a shower he hadn't been able to go back to sleep. His eyes felt sore and heavy; he had only been able to get a few hours of sleep. Three hours, at most. Like always. Slaine rubbed his tired eyes and shut them, bracing himself for the painful sting after a long time of not blinking, and he winced.

 _What day was it today…April 19th…the 19th…_ He groaned some more and rolled on over to his stomach. He almost didn't want to get up.

Simulation Day.

Held every ten months and the subject of hardship for every soldier, testing stamina, flexibility, strength, accuracy, actual experience, mental capacity and overall ability; calling it Simulation Day was optional—he and the fellow cadets in his unit had jokingly dubbed it among themselves to be the Red Gathering from the amount of blood (at least, Simulation-wise) spilled in such a seemingly simple test, lasting an entire day. And all the red coats.

_Simple. Ha._

He clenched his fists and pushed himself up from his bed with his fists and forearms, immediately swinging his legs over the side and shedding off the blankets. Quickly, he swept them off and flattened it over the mattress, smoothing the thin fabric over and tucking it under. Next he rearranged his disheveled pillows and placed them on top of the other, all of that done under one minute.

The instructor's voice resounded in his mind, barking orders of wasted time and he was on another task before the clock on his nightstand struck down another precious minute. He tugged on his towel from the rack it was on and marched straight to the bathroom. 5 minutes. Shower, lather, rinse, repeat, dry off. Get dressed. Two minutes.

Right after he had slipped on his gloves and barely ran a hand through his damp hair, his sergeant had all of a sudden opened his door, looking all of a hardened officer with his dour frown and tightly drawn shoulders.

"Rise and shine, Troyard! Today is Simulation Day!" His sergeant boomed, and Slaine stood up straight, arms to his side and shoulders squared.

"Sir!" He answered with fervor, marching towards the entrance as the superior turned heel as speedily as he came. Slaine paused when he passed through the threshold, staring blankly into space. The weight around his neck was substantial comfort. Gnawing on his lip, he shook himself out of it, and continued forward with a growing frown.

Soon, he was joined by the other members of his squad, each personally fetched by their sergeant from their quarters for brief conditioning, and then, Simulation Hour. Chatter, which was usual in his squad, wasn't present at that moment and for that he was glad. Looks like he wasn't the only one feeling the nerves for what the day had for them. Even Giles, the insufferable cadet in his squad who generally made his life hell, was silent with tension.

Idly, he wondered if he'll be joining the ranks of the dishonored this time. The last time was a stroke of luck alone; he'd almost lost a limb piloting that simulated malfunctioning carrier (or, in Sgt. Silan's words, "how to think practically under extreme mental pressure at the possibility of death").

Haunted, Slaine marched to his trial of the day expecting both the best and the worst.

* * *

_For a whole minute, his father stared at him, and Slaine stared right back. He stood a little off ways from where his father was seated, faintly able to discern the lines and the gray hairs that stood out. Slaine sees their resemblance, singled out all the features on his father's face that he saw every time he looks at a mirror._

_"Um," his father finally spoke, clearing his throat after, and Slaine patiently waited him out. "Wait. The recruitment? Did I hear you right?"_

_"Yes, father. I want to serve Vers." The knot on his father's forehead grew deeper and Slaine already had his incoming question in mind before his father could actually voice it out._

_"Why?"_

_He thought about the princess. "I want to serve Vers."_

_"But Slaine," his father's voice was strained. Years before, Slaine doubts he'd even agree with himself with his later decisions. Past Slaine would probably shake his head at him in disbelief. "If you don't remember, we came here with a sole purpose, and one purpose only. There's no need for you to..."_

_"Dad, you don't see it. At least you have something relevant to do here."_

_"What are you on about?"_

_Slaine did not bother sugarcoating his words. "I'm useless here, father. I wish to do something productive, at least, while on our time here."_ _His father was on him in seconds. Larger hands gripped his shoulders and he had to tilt his head back because his father effectively towered over him. Blue on blue. Blood against blood._

_"But you're not useless, Slaine. You've helped me more than what anyone could have done. And you're my son, my child. No man would want his child to suffer."_

_"But I'm not going to suffer, dad—"_

_"You've seen how difficult their regimens are, Slaine."_

_"—I'm aware but—"_

_"—and the people in it? Even more so. They_ will _kill you. Not only because of your birthright, but because it's how things are here. You are going to get killed._ I do not want that _. Your mother wouldn't want it either." His tone ruled out contentions. "I won't allow it, Slaine. I'm sorry."_

_Normally, he would have understood. His father was a reasonable man. He had confidence in reason over what he saw. Inquiries before allegations. He followed the scientific approach to solving a problem. Slaine wasn't one to voice out what he wanted or desired, and he wasn't spoiled either. But this is the one thing he wanted the most; depended on a princess' resolution to change the lives of her people and he wanted to be a part of it, and no matter what._

_Nothing can stop him. Not his Earthling blood, not his father, not anything._

_So Slaine did what any reasonable son would have done; he squared his shoulders, shrugging off his father, and sulked off, ignoring his father's reprimands as he left._

* * *

_What are you doing? Stand. Y _ou are not a child anymore.__

In the eyes of another, Count Cruhteo was like any other Versian nobility with the rank of Count, indifferent and aloof. Out of all 37 Clans his army force is on par with the power of Clan Saazbaum. The heir to inherit his title was named Klancain, whom Slaine had met several times when the young man came to visit as he attended to them.

 _You are a soldier._ _You do, or will not falter. Straighten your aim!_

He couldn't suppress the wry smile as he remembered the day he approached the austere man as he and his unit went into two files, sorted by last name. All twelve soldiers under the command of Sgt. Ervin Fordyce, squad 224 from Clan Cruhteo—they were to share the field with squads 244 and 264 led by Sgt. Isolde and Harvell from Clans Rafia and Keteratesse, respectively.  _This is what you waited for, yes? Then prove to me you are worthy of these bruises._

In his eyes, though, Count Cruhteo was a force to be reckoned with that commanded respect and fear. Being a soldier under his command meant being struck for no reason; that being said, in the eyes of many, they are punishments and simple beatings. 

_Do you understand pain, Troyard? Pain from this cane, from my fist, or the barrel of a gun, they all serve a purpose._

They are wrong. Every blow disguised lessons spoken while he stood on weakened knees and took it.

"Troyard." He looked up. Giles' disdain was prevalent, but subdued as he motioned him forward. Beside him, a messenger nodded briskly at him. "Count Cruhteo wants a word."

Slaine glanced around; at the corner near the overseeing deck where Count Saazbaum and Viscountess Orlane stood by, the said man was motioning him forward with a frosted stare and an imperceptible nod of his head. Jogging towards the rail, he bowed shortly and straightened stiffly, looking up as Cruhteo tapped his cane on the steel landing.

"You called, Count?"

"They've included yet again the carrier test this time." Slaine swallowed. Phantom aches of broken bones made him stiffer. "I advise you discard your gloves. They will not help you today."

The Count glanced at the upper observation area windows above them. Slaine followed his stare. A hundred feet up from where he stood, but Slaine would recognize that head of long sunshine hair anywhere. He couldn't see what kind of expression she wore, _but she was here to watch the Simulation_. He wanted to rip into something. _She is watching? Why is she watching?_

"Let her be. She is stubborn enough to get her way, she is strong enough to stand what may happen today." Slaine flinched at the easy reply, realizing he must have spoken aloud.

"You approved, my lord?"

"I did not." Cruhteo huffed. "But you, of all people, should already be aware of the fact that Her Highness does not listen to anyone."

Slaine shifted uncomfortably.

"Go now, Troyard." _Tap_ , _tap_ , went the cane again. "Prove your worth."

_You do not lie there and wait for the enemy to kill you. You stand, you take the blow, but you do not ever concede under whatever circumstance. You do not have that luxury. Fight for your life._

Slaine cast off every unnecessary thought and settled into battle-mode when he went back to his squad. He kept the lessons, the hard-earned bruises that stung and hardened muscles. He'd need them, and they hurt, and they served him well today. He thought not of the princess who would be watching, he thought not of Giles, he thought not of giving up.

As the Simulation Hour drew nearer, so did memories he usually kept away.

He couldn't cast them off by conditioning even if he wanted to. 

* * *

_He found the man he was looking for a full three hours later, avoiding the princess even though such treatment of her was sure to merit her annoyance. Though it made him guilty, determination won him out._

_At first, the Count had been amiable enough. He couldn't very well strike down a child while there were witnesses now, could he? He answered his questions, replied to his comments with utmost patience, but soon Slaine could see this was going nowhere. So he tried being blunt._

_The response he got didn't disappoint as he was dragged to an empty hall. Slaine braced himself for cutting words and sharp knives._

_"And what makes you think that a Terran foreigner like you could ever be good enough to be of servitude to Her Highness?" Cruhteo demanded, the end of his cane pressed against Slaine's sternum._

_"Nothing, my lord." Slaine bowed his head respectfully. "I'm not trying to be anything. You see, my father and I…we are indebted to her, Count. She has saved my life and my father's, and that is a debt that I can never fully pay. But the bottom line is that—that princess…I want to protect her, somehow. But…being like this—" He gestured to himself. "This—this foreigner with nothing if not for the clothes on his back…I…I can never be the kind of person that Princess Asseylum deserves, but I want to be good enough to serve her."_

_Slaine bowed low; a full 90-degree that made Cruhteo blink in surprise._

_"I'd like to be recruited into your force."_

_"You realize," Cruhteo's voice was strained. "That my clan is the most...?"_

_"Yes, Count!"_

_"And your father has approved of it?"_

_"No, he hasn't, my lord."_ Not yet, at least.

_"Well, then, send my praises to your father for he has made the right choice. You are nothing but a mere slip of a child. How am I assured that you are competent enough to last as one of my men? I'm willing to wager on your resiliency that no longer than three days and you'd be begging to be relinquished." Cruhteo spat, swinging his cane to the side as an act of shooing him away. "Out of my sight, brat. You have no place here."_

_Cruhteo moved, looking perturbed and something like uncertainty making his expression cross. Slaine raised his head; the Count was moving away. He quickly straightened up and tottered after him, clenching his fists determinedly as he followed. It doesn't matter if he is kept shunned away like this. He'd just keep trying and trying._

_If he was someone familiar in Vers' territory, then maybe he deserved being considered the princess' friend. If he became a soldier, serving her country and making him Versian by name even if it meant forgetting that he was Earth-born, he'd take it. If he had to turn his back on his earthling heritage to swear full loyalty to the Vers Empire under her authority, to fulfill his duty as her knight, even if it meant disregarding his father's wishes, then so be it._

_Slaine stops when Cruhteo does, his eyes flashing, and there is a loud clatter as the older man dropped his cane to yank on Slaine's collar. Slaine was jerked forward violently, him gasping at the sudden pull, and the man whose iron fist stood out among the rest of them glared down at him._

_He feared Count Cruhteo, but he also commended him high respect. Perhaps it was the fear that made him push forward like this. Perhaps he was simply an idiot._

_"Why do you persist?" Cruhteo gritted, shaking him a little._

_"Because—" Slaine gasped against the choke hold, glaring back as determinedly as he could. His shoes are barely scraping the ground, and as his hands clawed against the older man's hands, he ground out in full finality in earnest, "I want to be with Her Highness…! I want to be worthy of her, my lord!"_

_Cruhteo's stare narrowed._ _Slaine brazenly held his intimidating stare, a defiance he didn't know he had, coursing through him as he raised his chin up. Cruhteo jerked him forward again, and as Slaine winced, Cruhteo leaned forward an inch._

_"Do you know the laws of the Vers Empire?"_

What? _Wary, Slaine shook his head. Cruhteo shook him harder by his collar._

_"How old are you?"_

_"I've just—I've just turned twelve, my lord!"_

_"Twelve?" Cruhteo scoffed, a warning gleam to his stare. "Even if you wanted to join my program you still would have to wait for four more years for the law of the Vers Empires states that it is a war crime to recruit anyone under the age of sixteen. Even though by knowledge that each clan has an independent army force of its own, it doesn't change the fact that us Orbital Knights have sworn loyalty to His Imperial Majesty and we abide by his word. Do you honestly think that a foolish ambition such as yours will guarantee you a place among my ranks? Indulge, then, Slaine Troyard, what you will do?"_

_He knew what the Count was trying to do. He was trying to get him to stand down; to give up. He was being underestimated because he was a child and he wasn't even Versian. Almost Cruhteo's way of saying,_ "What right do you have to speak so highly of yourself?"

_Slaine set his jaw. "Then I'll wait. Four more years, I can wait. I'll do my best."_

_"Oh?" Cruhteo smirked. "And if I don't consider you?" His resolve was cracking, but Slaine refused to be swept away._ For her _, he thought._ For the princess.

_"I hope you'll consider." Cruhteo dropped him at this timely interruption. Slaine gasped, the lightheaded relief of air gushing back into his airways making him dizzy. On the floor and trying to regain his bearings, he caught a glimpse of dark, coffee-brown hair and strands of billowing ebony._

_"Saazbaum. Orlane." Cruhteo greeted._

_"And who is this poor boy? How harsh of you, Cruhteo. He looks no older than twelve!" The woman chided._

_Cruhteo huffed, "The boy is Dr. Troyard's son, Slaine."_

_He barely had his thoughts straightened when he felt a pair of hands pulling him up—the Viscountess's, he realized._

_"C—Count Saazbaum. Viscountess Orlane. Greetings!" Slaine made a hasty bow, and the woman laughed._

_"I see. So this is the Slaine that Her Highness keeps prattling on and off about," Orlane crooned, and when Slaine saw the entirety of her, he blushed and grew rightfully nervous, bashful as the Viscountess fixed his clothes. His collar, however, was pretty much a lost cause, all wrinkled now. "Much interesting."_

_"True, my friend." Saazbaum hummed, and Slaine could not help but redden some more. "A pity, though. He seems to be insistent on joining your units. My boy, if you would consider Orlane's unit and I, you are very much welcome!" Slaine smiled uncertainly, not saying a word. Unfortunately, there would be no other._

_"And just what are you two doing here?" Cruhteo huffed, kicking his cane back into his grip._ How'd he do that? _Slaine couldn't help but think. "For how long were you watching?"_

_"I think you're forgetting that it's because of you that we are here." Said Orlane, not giving an answer towards his second question._

_"What?"_

_Saazbaum snorted, "Why, my friend Cruhteo, today is evaluation day. We need to be in His Imperial Majesty's council room in twelve minutes!"_

_"Then why didn't you say so?"_

_Cruhteo was already stalking away as he says this, not sparing him a glance back. But Slaine didn't feel deterred at all. In fact, he felt even more encouraged and compelled to ensure that he had a place among the ranks of Clan Cruhteo's recruitment. He wanted—no, he needed to be there to protect her, to serve her, be her pillar of support. But before he could do that, he had to make sure he could stand for himself, too._

_"Slaine Troyard, correct?" Slaine jumped in surprise. Count Saazbaum and Viscountess Orlane hadn't left just yet._

_"Easy, now." Orlane hummed. "You are him, right?"_

_"Y-yes, Viscountess..."_

_He sees them exchange glances, something that confused him, but Slaine didn't question it. Didn't dare to._

_"I see."_

_Saazbaum nods, while Orlane gave him yet another once over._

_"With trial and error, it would work, no?"_

_"I...I beg your pardon?"_

_He jumped a bit when the older man clapped his hands once, a stern smile playing on his lips, and likewise Orlane straightened up, giving him a polite smile while she adjusted the cuffs of her uniform with that a knowing glint in her gaze. Slaine didn't know what to think, what to say._

_"Nothing of importance. Best we should be going! Slaine Troyard, was it? We'd like to stay and talk some more but I'm afraid we're late enough as is."_

_"Of course!" He remembers his manners, bows low enough that his hair falls to dangle from his head. "I wish you a good evening, Count Saazbaum, Viscountess Orlane!"_

_He doesn't raise his head as they pass by him, giving him their own farewells and the quiet chatter of their conversation. He doesn't raise his head until the last footfall is not heard by his ears and the hallway is devoid of any other living person but him. Slaine raises his head, and breathes out deeply._

_Basically feeling star-struck and inarticulate, he breathed out words that seemed most appropriate that moment._

_"Holy shit."_

_His mother would be proud; his father would probably foam even more at the mouth._

* * *

Slaine awoke to threadbare bedding and sterile-tasting air, groaning quietly. Everything hurt, and his muscles ached that he feared that, if he moved, he’d permanently pull something and maim himself. His limbs were numb and his head felt as if it were stuffed full— _nothing_  was spared and  _everything_  hurt.

He knew he was in the medical ward, along with the many others, and trying to remember what else happened after the Simulation was asking for a stronger headache. So he didn’t try anymore.

He did remember escaping the flaming carrier though—it had been the final test. He remembered losing oxygen inside the aircraft, the panic he tried to curb as he looked around to save himself, the sheer desperation that he had to punch through the glass encasement just so he could crawl out. At the memory, his knuckles twitched and stung. He was sure he’d have lacerations on them.

"Are you coherent?" Someone teased quietly somewhere by his side.

His eyes opened so fast he regretted it immediately after; the room spun and his weak stomach heaved. Slaine hissed at his own idiocy as blood pounded in his ears, his temples, and set his heart beating faster. His ears rang, his hands shook until his body trembled—a vague noise came to his visitor but it was lost in the great pain his body was in.  _Holy hell._

Whatever was happening around him was ignored in favor of his own self-preservation, willing himself to stop. Stop what?  _Something. Anything. Everything, just make it stop hurting!_

A needle pricked his arm and he nearly cried with relief; were they plugging him with something to make it stop hurting? He hoped they were. He couldn’t stand this. He felt so weak. He hated it. He hated the Simulation. But he needed the Simulation. He still hated it. Hated the weakness it caused after.

Slaine found he was right moments later—his eyes fogged over with exhaustion, drugged with painkillers and some other some things he didn’t know, he finally found the brief opportunity to look at his visitor before he passed out again.

Long, long dark hair.

* * *

The next time he roused to consciousness, he felt a smidgen better. Everything still hurt, but at least his head didn’t feel like exploding. He could appreciate the bed better, and the sterile air no matter how unpleasant. Another point that pleased him was that he could feel his limbs now. He’d be sore later on, but it was nothing he couldn’t overcome.

What of the Simulation?

Results were usually issued after recovery, which would probably take a month, all soldiers accounted for. Slaine winced as he readjusted his head; he definitely needed the rest.

A cluttering noise stole his attention—on the bed across him, there was Tyllis, another squad mate who was quietly swearing with her hand outstretched towards the nightstand. The thing she’d been reaching for was a plastic cup with its watery contents spilled on the floor.

"Tyllis."

She snorted, a weak sound. "Troyard. So you made it after all."

"Hoping you’d get rid of me?"

"Debatable." Slaine grinned weakly. She dropped her hand with a grumbling sigh. "We’re going to have to get three new members though. We’re down to nine this time. Messenger filled me in earlier."

He swallowed. "Who didn’t make it?"

"Schnitt, Caltrow—Giles forfeited on the carrier. Nervous breakdown. It wouldn't be impudent to say that his bunk is already being cleared by now as we speak." She winced, and Slaine shared it as they lapsed into silence. Besides he and Tyllis, Giles had been one of the longest that had been in the squad. "Interesting visitors you had by the way."

"Huh?"

"Viscountess Orlane? Even the princess herself came by just a few minutes ago. You missed her by ten minutes." She laughed. "I swear, this room never quieted so much in twenty minutes."

If he had enough blood, he swore he’d be blushing.

"W-what’d they want?" he hedged, uncaring if it looked as if he was avoiding the obvious question in her tone. "Did they say?"

Tyllis hummed, "The viscountess didn’t say much. She came as she went—I think you were awake, but barely, really. The princess though. D’you have a thing with her? Because she sure as hell fussed around you like the world was ending."

"Uh—"

"Actually, don’t answer that." She raised her head enough to flash him a smirk. "She’s back."

Her curtains were drawn, so it provided her a view of who was coming and going. The green curtains surrounding his bed except the one by his feet were drawn, and Slaine almost wanted to fall back to sleep when a blonde head quietly peeked through. Emerald eyes were worried and relieved at the same time—when she saw him awake, she immediately bounded to his side.

"You should be resting," she chastised. Her weight pressed on the bed near his arm as she leaned on her hands, invading his personal space.

Slaine gave her a shaky, tired smile. "What time is it, Your Highness?" Her frown deepened.

"Past noon."

"Good afternoon, princess."

"Good afternoon, Slaine. Do you hurt somewhere?"

"Everywhere."

Her eyes went downcast. "Oh." She turned to drag the armed chair closer to the bed and he watched her do so, feeling tongue-tied and flustered even as he lacked the natural bodily reactions at the moment to look the part.

Seated, she cradled her chin in her hands and stared right back. Silent. Watching. Making his heart speed up. He could only be glad he didn’t have a heart monitor attached to him. Tyllis watching their exchange was enough humiliation. She was silent, but he knew that as soon as they were all able, she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to use this against him.

Slaine cleared his dry throat. "You were here."

"I was. And I’m here now."

"Why?"

"Why not?" He scowled at her, unable to help it, and she grinned right back. "I was worried! You honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to stand not coming to see you? You looked—you  _were_  half-dead after the Simulation!"

He shifted, chewing his lip nervously as he said his next words carefully in a low voice so that only she could hear. "Careful, Your Highness. Others are listening, and they might think you’re favoring me."

Her eyes softened.

"I was honestly glad I came to watch this time," she murmured, as low as he.

"Why?"

He recognized the laughter in her eyes and he knew what she was going to say before she said it. "Why not?"

This time he answered. "You shouldn't have to see such things."

"Funny you say that when this isn't any worse from what I see every time I have my birthday."

Her rebuttal was abrupt; grim and her anger subtle, it took him by surprise. He didn't expect that. For a few long moments they faced off in silence, simply staring. Her gaze, normally so expressive, had shuttered him out. Guilt ate up his gut quickly, making him look away first as he sighed.  _To hell with it_ , he thought as he eyed the bed across him. Tyllis was still watching with rapt attention.

Asseylum followed his eyes, then turned back to him, a brow drawn up.

"My squad mate is watching," he murmured. "You should go, Your Highness."

Indeed, she got up. He expected it, except, she didn't stand to leave. She stood to enclose them within the curtains, their semblance of privacy complete. Slaine gawked, and Asseylum quite proudly sat back down—much closer this time, since she could put her arms on them to lay her head on.

Slaine chewed his lip again. "Never mind, then?" She gave a brief giggle, then a small shrug, green eyes staring. Tendrils of sun-spun hair teased his arm, and he belatedly realized they were drawn up in a rare bun; he couldn't quite stop his eyes from tracing the graceful curve of her neck without her hair in the way. Either she knew what he was doing or not, it made his stomach do funny flips.

Maybe the drugs were still in effect after all, if he couldn't care about the fact that he was ogling.

"Rest," she reached up to poke his cheek.

Slaine smiled. "I just woke up from that rest, princess."

"Then rest once more." She and the chair she sat on scooted closer; next to his head now. "I'll be here."

He dared to reach up; to touch one of her hands, wondering naught if it was okay, because he already knew what the answer would be. His fingers barely brushed hers when she grabbed them in hers. He looked at her face, catching her unabashed, delighted smile as their hands linked _._

"Your words say that I go," she commented with a touch of smugness, thumb pressing against his thumbnail. "But you are dishonest with the way your actions say otherwise."

He hummed. "So what do you want me to say?"

"The truth."

He could tell she was teasing again. He flicked off her thumb and pressed back with his. She resisted. He pressed harder, and so then their hands shifted to a game of thumb wrestling, of all things.

"The truth, princess? Can you handle the truth?" Asseylum rolled her eyes, but she was beaming at him. The next words he said wiped off her smile for a furious blush. "The _truth_ is that I like having _you_ here."

He closed his eyes and grinned to himself, letting his words really sink into her head in silence as their thumbs ceased pressing against each other. He'd made her blush; gotten her tongue tied and mellow from his words. He shouldn't, but it felt  _ good _ to be the one to catch her off-guard this time.

"Do you really?" She murmured shyly, surprising him that he looked at her again, nearly gasping aloud when she was much closer than before. Hovering closely, she repeated her question. "You mean it?"

_ Spoke too soon! _

"I…ah," he swallowed. "You—you know that I do. I never lie."

Her mouth curved wryly. "I believe you, but you lie about other things." She sighed, and Slaine swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling awfully guilty. He resigned himself to looking away as she leaned back, feeling the loss of her warmth tenfold as the amiable air thickened to unease.

It was short-lived as there was an audible clattering in the ward. Footsteps neared and the curtain was drawn back, a pair of mauve eyes wide and worried. The owner of said eyes jumped in surprise at the abrupt attention given to her by both inhabitants inside the semi-private enclosure.

"Your Highness!" Eddelrittuo dressed in hushed tones, sidling up to her side and wringing her fingers. "Ooh, you're here _again!_ You are not permitted to be in the soldiers' ward, do you not remember?"

"Neither should you, but you're here, too?" Asseylum huffed, amused but pointedly looking away from Slaine. The young warden flushed.

"I am here because I am fetching you, princess!"

"For?"

Eddelrittuo gave him a brief glance. "About the goodwill visit to Earth." She flushed some more. "Count Cruhteo also said that if you don't come immediately, he would personally see to it that there will no longer be any other chances of your visiting Earth. He urges you do not take this lightly."

Asseylum stood so quickly the chair got pushed back. "He wouldn't!" She cried in dismay, forgoing sulking to regard the nonplussed Slaine. "I will be back.  _ You _ will rest." She said to him almost authoritatively that he marveled in awe of her. The sight of her back to him, straight with indignity and determination as she left, made much of his tension lessen, and something in his chest to swell with pride.

He glanced at the young warden, noticing she didn't follow her charge immediately like she always did.

"Aren't you leaving yet as well?"

Eddelrittuo fidgeted. He waited. With some awkward shuffling, the blush-cheeked girl went to his side and cupped her hands over his ear, her message short and brief, yet as knee-weakening as he sagged against his bed with relief, a quiet, sort-of choked laugh breaking out of him as Eddelrittuo moved away, bowing shortly and closing the curtains on her departure. Slaine raised a shaking arm and draped it over his eyes.

"Thank you," he breathed, meaning every word. _Thank you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is long overdue bUT YES, THIS IS STILL ALIVE.  
> //claws self


End file.
